Oblivion Hath No Fury Like A Were Dovahkiin Scorned
by Sephraem
Summary: Brynjolf is a flirt and a womanizer, and no one seems to mind...right? Then why is Keiana, his normally stoic Guild Master, suddenly losing her shit and trying to kill him? And why does his new distraction from said Guild Master have these strange orange eyes? That shouldn't mean anything bad...right? RIGHT?
1. Chapter 1

"She's coming 'round."

"Keiana, tell us what happened."

A soft moan escapes the young woman's mouth, then verdant eyes slowly open, blinking rapidly at the sudden influx of light. Her gaze eventually falls on the one who addressed her, plus two others. "Kodlak...? Aela? Vil?" Auburn brows furrow in thought, then she goes "Delvin. Where is he? I didn't...did I?"

"Calm down, Sister. The thief is fine, if a bit tired. He's laying down in the whelps room- your old bed if I'm not mistakin'," the Huntress tells her, "but considering he managed to get you here all the way from Riften without stopping, I think he deserves it. Farkas is keeping an eye on him."

Calloused fingers slowly slip through long yet dull straw locks, followed by "When your... colleague... brought you here, he wouldn't tell us much, just that an incident made you half feral in rage." Storm colored orbs look down on the exhausted female and Vilkas continues quietly, "You out of the entire circle have the most control regarding the beast blood, Ana. Rare is it that you slip... What angered you so?"

The woman shakes her head, burying her face into the male's side, taking comfort in the woodsy scent that wafted off her fellow Nord. "I don't want to talk about it, Brother."

"Then don't verbalize it." The Wolf Twin feels her form stiffen against him- not a surprising response, given Keiana's preference for filtering what she let through the link the members of the Circle shared. _You have seen us all at our worst, Ana, and gave us your unwavering support. Let us do the same for you now,_ he tells her, their gazes locked so she would know the truth between the words.

A thin eyebrow arches slightly at his statement. _Like how you wholeheartedly supported my becoming a Companion in the beginning?_ Keiana snorts as she gives the now abashed Vilkas a tired smile. _Farkas?_

A gruff voice slips into the connection. _Yeah?_

Have one of the whelps watch Delvin and come down, please? Preferably one he won't try to get in the pants of and vice versa.

 _From what you've told of me and what I've seen, I think Torvar could work,_ Farkas goes, his voice betraying his amusement. _Five minutes, Sister._

The other Wolf Twin bounds into the room a few minutes later and perches himself on the blonde female's other side, clearly excited if the way he nuzzled her cheek in greeting was any indication. When asked about it, he just goes "I get to learn about what Ana does when she's not here, who wouldn't be?"

"It's nothing glamorous, Farkas, I can assure you of that," the woman in question goes, then sighs. "I will not be held responsible for what anyone sees during this...and Aela, I apologize in advance if this drags up your own bad memories." Before anyone can respond or ask questions, those gathered get hit by the onslaught of being thrust into a memory.

 **~~~***~~~**

"Evenin' Boss. Got a minute?"

The Circle watches as a familiar pair of flawless emeralds peer up from the ledger they were perusing, a slight smile breaking across their fellow Companion's face. "For you, Delvin Mallory, you can have two." She chuckles softly, then goes "What's on your mind?"

The bald Breton- who had not a few hours ago brought their sister over their threshold in a sorry state- says to her as he waggles his eyebrows in a teasing fashion. "One of these days you'll want to give me more than two minutes, Ana." He moves over to the other side of her desk, leaning against it, and continues "A job came into my lap and I think you'd be perfect for it."

"The day I give in to that offer is the day you die because you're chasin' a certain leggy blonde that's not me until then. Perfect for what? The job, or your lap?" Keiana looks back down at the book, makes a small note, then stands up straight, arms crossing across her midsection. "That is a different tune you're singin' there, Del. Normally I'm the one that has to be beggin' you or Vex for a job- just because I'm the Guild Master doesn't mean I want to sit on my ass and do paper work all day. Have to keep these skills of mine sharp and all that..." A straw colored eyebrow arches just slightly as she stares into the man's eyes, then a huff escapes the Nord woman's mouth. "Fine, I'll bite. Let's hear it. First, where in this gods forsaken province is the item located?"

"A fort up in Eastmarch named Gallows Rock."

Aela stiffens besides Kodlak- this is what her sister meant in her apology. Before she can say anything, however, the Keiana in the memory cuts her brother in shadows off with a quick slice of her hand. "No. Out of the question."

"Boss, I know you aren't really keen on heading back to Eastmarch but..."

"My utter _refusal_ on taking this job has nothing to do with that bastard sitting pretty on his throne, Delvin Mallory! My forebear's mate was brutally murdered there...all because he couldn't wait...all because Aela and I didn't get there fast enough. There's a reason a Companion never takes on jobs- especially ones like that- alone." Strands of hair cover the sides of the woman's face as her head lowers- more to cover the threat of tears in her eyes. "The Silver Hand took a good man from Skyrim that day. I haven't set foot in that place since we slaughtered every man and woman there, Delvin- it will be a scalding day in northern Skyrim before I do again."

"Not even for the Bow of Shadows?"

The Guild Master's lips set in a thin line. "You utter _bastard_. Way to try and bribe me to go with a bow that hasn't been glimpsed by anyone since before Red Year. By Talos, even I could only track it as far as when the Nerevarine sold it to the Museum of Artifacts in Mournhold- and that's with my calling in favors. How in the name of Oblivion did you track it down?"

The twins exchange amused smiles as they hear the exasperation in the echo's voice regarding the lack of information on something. While Vilkas was an ardent student of history, Ana was just as bad when it came to legends. Often the pair could be found debating in the hall the validity of something one of them found in some dusty tome til the wee hours of the morning. It was a shame, Farkas believed, that his brother and their shield-sister weren't mates like Aela and Skjor were- the two meshed well together.

"I'm a thief, Ana. We're not supposed to be _nice._ Doing underhanded things to get what we want is how we work, you of all people should know this." The four watch as a teasing smirk crosses the man's face when he tells her "So I've piqued your interest, Boss?"

"Yes, but not enough to convince me to go walking back into that nightmare. Send Karliah- I'm sure she'd appreciate the chance to replace the bow she gave me."

"She's in Raven Rock helping my brother."

"Then send Brynjolf. It'll do him some good to get out of Riften anyway."

"What will do me some good, Lass?"

They all smelled the man in question before they saw him- a tall and broad redheaded Nord, with mischievous mossy eyes and a smirk on his face. A confident male, if the swagger he walked with was any indication. Had he been like them, chances are this Brynjolf could have been an Alpha in the making.

Unfortunately for Keiana, she smelled him too, and knew from the first inhale that it wasn't right. Long fingers gripped at the table in front of her as her own eyes flash amber for a moment. "Who was she?" the woman bites out, trying to hold back the growl wanting to escape.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Lass." _Lie._

"Oh no," murmurs Aela. "What an idiot."

"There's more to her anger than the lie though," Kodlak goes thoughtfully. "Let us keep watching."

"I'll give you one more chance to answer, Bryn. Who. Was. She."

A panicked expression flickered across the other Nord's face as he stops just past the middle of the cistern. "Lass, really. I have no idea..."

Before he could finish the second lie, the Guild Master vaulted over the table and in front of him, her bare hand wrapped around his throat. " _That_ was a mistake, Bryn." The blonde leans forward, inhaling the skin her fingers didn't cover. "Not one of the usual wenches you've bedded in the past. Doesn't even smell that appealing." She meets his wide gaze directly, her usually forest orbs a glowing yellow color. "Could you not have washed before coming back to the cistern? Did you not think I'd know? I could smell each and every one of your sexual conquests for the _past_ year, you idiot."

The Companions watch as slight changes to their sister's appearance and posture- a shifting of her feet signifying a balance shift, her normally neat nails sharpening and lengthening against the captive man's skin.

"All this time, I ignored it, though something inside was eating away at me, demanding retribution for the blatant disregard of the hints I dropped, for all the times you apologized and promised we'd speak at another time. Days became weeks, which became months. Give me one reason, Bryn."

"Ana!"

Her feral gaze shifts, her head turning to look at Delvin, who was now nearly behind her. "What."

"He _can't breathe_ Boss!"

So wrapped up in her anger was Keiana that she didn't realize that the grip she had around her Second's throat had tightened dramatically in the few minutes, and his normally red tinged face was now turning blue from lack of air. Her eyes widen as fingers fly off Brynjolf's throat, the man collapsing to the walkway in a heap.

Keeping his hands where she could see them, Delvin moves over to her, head tilted over to the side. "Boss, let's get you out of here for awhile, yes? Is there somewhere I can bring you?"

She doesn't look at him, nor at the man breathing heavily on the floor. Her gaze is fixated at her fingers, which are still clawed. "Whiterun. Jorrvaskr. I can't... They're not..."

"Go get some stuff together, Ana. I'll bring Bryn to his bed."

Their sister doesn't respond, only starts shuffling off towards the side, possibly taking heed of his advice. The last thing the Companions hear before the memory ends is the Breton telling his brother in shadows " _I_ _ **told**_ _you to stop this horker shit, Bryn. More than once... Next time I'll let her have her way with you- even if that does mean she kills you."_


	2. Chapter 2

"Keiana, what was going through your mind when you reacted the way you did?"

A voice comes out mumbled, the young woman's face buried into Farkas's chest due to shame. "Rage. Pain. Inadequate. Confusion. I couldn't figure out if I wanted to kill him or drag him to a bath and remove that gods awful smell and..."

"Now tell me how do you think you would feel if you learned he died."

"Kodlak, is there a point to this?" Farkas asks, pulling the shaking form of his sister closer.

Aela looks at their Harbinger with an incredulous expression on her face, knowing where he was going with this specific line of questioning. "You don't think...?"

The eldest Nord turns his gaze upon the redhead and goes "It's possible." His fingers rub at his beard covered chin and adds "Surely you remember your own trials with Skjor...Or what you went through after the events of Gallows Rock, how long it took you to deem yourself ready to take on work again?"

"How would I feel?" Teary sapphires look up at the man who had become her father figure over the years and Keiana gives him a sad smile. "I don't need to think about it, I know... though the result would probably lead to an interesting debate between two Daedric Princes on who has the truer claim to my soul- Nocturnal or Hircine."

"Shor's bones," Vilkas mutters, half to himself. "He's her... And he has no idea. You have to tell him, Ana."

"And why should I? He seems quite content whoring himself out to the ladies of Skyrim- why should I even think of depriving him of such debauchery? I'm sure he's a clandestine follower of Sanguine or Dibella with all his antics. Maybe Bryn's been taking lessons from Haelga in his spare time."

"Keiana," her maker goes quietly, "you will only be able to fight the pull for so long. Take it from someone that knows. The more you ignore and the more you deny, the more your wolf will fight for control. In the end, she will have what she wants- it's up to you on how peaceably she takes it."

"Then if I'm to spend the rest of my life performing for the whims of gods and daedra, I'll leave my fate in the hands of Hermaeus Mora- at least him I can trust to not completely screw me over." The blonde woman huffs in frustration, then winces as her stomach lets out a loud growl demanding attention. "Bloody thing's always demanding more food at the worst possible times." She peers up at the Harbinger and goes "Am I allowed to leave this bed, Kodlak? Or am I under orders of bed rest?"

"I am no one's Master, Little One. You know I always say that there's no one in charge here, Each Shield-Brother is his own man, each Shield-Sister her own woman. I guide, and you four advise. But we're all free warriors- we can come and go as we please... Only our honor is what binds us together." The elder sits on the edge of her bed and places a rough hand on the side of her face. "Only you can tell if _you're_ ready to get out of this bed. What is your body telling you?"

The younger female snorts softly and replies with a shrug "My mind is telling me things can't get done staying in this bed. My stomach wants sustenance. My body is demanding to be left here. Seems even my inner workings can't come to an agreement."

"A compromise then. Farkas, please ask Tilma for something for Keiana to eat. Vilkas, I'm sure there's a book _somewhere_ in your room that she hasn't read yet. And Aela, if she's willing, could share what she knows about this new development."

"Of course," the auburn haired woman says with a slight smile. "It's not every day someone of the Circle discovers who their other half is. Trust me, Ana, it's not as bad as you think it is."

"We'll see, Sister... Kodlak, can I have a few minutes to talk with you? Alone?"

Before the man could even respond, the Huntress and Wolf Twins slip out the door, shutting it behind them. A few moments pass, then the elder goes "I take this has to do with your comment regarding the claim on your soul?"

"Caught that did you?" Keiana gives her father figure a wry smile, then continues "I'm supposed to defend the Sepulcher when I die, Kodlak. I'm supposed to go to the afterlife with him when we're called into service. I can't get dragged to the Hunting Grounds- I have no problem forgoing Sovngarde, as I do not think I deserve it. I'm not an honorable warrior. I attack from the shadows and become one with them. The Evergloam is where I need to be in order to guide the thieves of the future, not participating in Hircine's hunts."

"Performing the ritual won't break the bond you hold with your ginger thief, Little One. That sort of bond builds upon a love already there."

"Pretty one-sided if you ask me. Bryn's a flirt of the worst kind- worse than Farkas on a good day. I can't tie myself to a man who won't take five minutes to talk about guild business, claiming he has important things to do and we'd talk later, but he'll drop anything to try getting up a woman's skirts."

Kodlak takes the young woman's hand in his and gives it a slight squeeze. "Remember when you said you were going to leave it all up to Fate? Well perhaps the Gardener of Men hasn't played his entire hand yet. Things take time, events have to unfold. The Princes do what they want, when they want, and we lowly mortals can't make them move any faster or slower. Now, is it safe to guess you want one of the Glenmoril witch heads?"

"I'm...considering it," Ana tells him honestly. "I'll only go to Ysgramor's Tomb if I feel my back is up against the proverbial wall and there's no other way to ensure my following those before me to the Evergloam...which means research and paying a visit to my guild's Patron. I'm sure between my various homes, the books here and the books that Delvin has hoarded away holding the Guild's information, I should be able to find some sort of battle plan."

"Whatever Jorrvaskr has, it's at your disposal, Keiana, you know this." The two exchange smiles as the younger Companion leans back against the headboard of the bed. "Now, I will go start seeing what tomes from my private collection might be of use and will let Farkas in- the fact he's respected your closed door says much on how he cares for you, Little One."

"More maybe on how much he knows I'll shout him through a wall and make him repair the damage if he comes in without knocking. And...thank you."

"For what?"

"As Vilkas said, I normally have very good control over my more...base urges, like my temper. You listened, didn't judge, and aren't trying to force my decision... I'm glad we didn't lose you when the Silver Hand attacked, Kodlak... Gods only know where we'd be at this point without the wisdom you hold."

"Wisdom comes with age, and I've been lucky to become an old warrior. But soon you and the others will have your own words of wisdom to share with the newcomers that will bless the halls of Jorrvaskr, and when that day comes I know I can go to Sovngarde with no burdens..."

 **~~~***This is a break. Fanfiction ate my original one***~~~**

Days pass for the residents of Jorrvaskr, Frostfall turning into Sun's Dusk. Delvin had left the morning after he brought his Guild Master to the Companions, citing the need to keep their ragtag bunch in Riften in line...but only after extracting a promise from Ana that she would let him know of her progress and if she planned on doing anything stupid.

Unfortunately for her concerned brother in shadows, if Keiana didn't go looking for trouble, it usually found her...and when it did, it was in the _most spectacular_ of ways.

"Ana?"

Brilliant sapphires pull away from the words in the book the Nord was reading, falling upon Athis in the doorway. "Yes?"

"There's...someone here to see you, and whoever it is, Vilkas is none too happy with it. Your...cousin?"

 _There's only one 'cousin' that could possibly get Vilkas's hackles up, but why would she come all the way here?_ "I'll come up directly then, since I'm sure he barely allowed her over the threshold." She sticks a piece of parchment between the pages to hold her spot, then stalks past the Dark Elf, down the hall and up the stairs. "Good evening, Vilkas. And hello, Babette- I didn't realize it was time for my surprise visit from my shortest cousin- especially here of all places."

"Keiana, it's been too long. I don't think the family's seen you since you and the Keeper played with that bandit leader in Raldbthar. You should come pay us a visit- now would be preferable."

"Now? But I'm in the middle of..."

"I know. Mallory told me." The undead child pulls a folded piece of parchment out from a pocket and holds it out to the other female. "He apologizes that he couldn't come himself, but says this should explain it."

A shaking hand takes the proffered paper, eyes widening as they dart across the familiar scrawl of the guild's sneak trainer. "Gods... Do I need to bring anything?"

"Just yourself, Cousin, but if you feel you need anything, I can give you a few minutes."

"Yes, if anything to tell Kodlak I'll be leaving for awhile. Anything I could end up needing can just be gotten from Lakeview Manor, or even Breezehome or Honeyside. My research can wait a bit... Delvin should have gotten in touch with me sooner than this."

"Ana, understand that he knew what you were doing was important to you. He wanted to exhaust all other possibilities before getting you involved... Don't be...too harsh with him."

"He's just as important. Maybe even more so..." Shoulders slump slightly as a blonde head nods. "I will try. Five minutes, Babette, then we'll go."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: First off Happy New Year Readers!

Wow, okay, I wasn't expecting people to actually follow this story, considering there are so much _better_ Brynjolf stories out there than mine. So here's the next chapter- it was going to be a bit longer, but I felt that was a good place to stop. Also, a bit of a warning- I'm attempting my first try of writing a bit of a Dub-Con here, so if it sucks, please don't just say it sucks, explain how I can get better.

And away we go!

* * *

"Ana."

"Where is he?"

A calloused hand grabs onto her arm. "Stop. Breathe. Listen." When the Guild Master pauses in her mad rush through the Falkreath Sanctuary to look at the Breton, Delvin continues quietly "He's...fine, for the most part. He just..." A sigh then, "We've all offered- our own guild mates and those of the Brotherhood- but... Stubborn Nords, the lot of you. You're the last hope, Boss. If you can't get through to him..."

"No. I won't let that happen. Over my own dead body will I let her put him down like some feral dog!"

"That's what he'll be if you fail, Keiana. He'll waste into a shell of what he was. There will be nothing left that we know. Having her do it instead of the Vigilants of Stendarr or that group based out of Dawnguard will be a blessing in the end."

A sigh then, "I'll need time Del. You're asking for a miracle here. Remember what I am, what he now is. By nature, we're not really supposed to get along, remember?" Before the bald headed man could argue against her, his Guild Master holds up a hand. "Go to Babette. See if among all the things she has for dress up there are two or three things to tie my hair back. _Nothing else._ "

While her fellow thief went to find the requested articles, she undid the various buckles of her armor and removed the chest piece, revealing a loose fitting black tunic and the waistband of matching pants popping out above her leg armor. Off came her boots, then the remaining armor- all three pieces getting put on chair. _What if I can't do this? ...to Oblivion with the hair ties. He's seen worse. We'll manage. We always do... don't we?_ Ana takes a slow inhale through her nose, and, finding the one scent that called out to her even more now, lets her sense of smell work in tandem with her memory to figure out just where the Dark Brotherhood were keeping her now rather screwed Second. Bare feet pad along the cold stone floor, eventually bringing the Nord to a reinforced door, one that even she would have a problem forcing. Another inhale, another exhale, and the woman pushes the door open, steps in, and closes the portal behind her.

The room was, to Keiana's surprise, decently furnished. Perhaps at one time a person with needs like hers or needs like Babette's had used it, but now it was the safe haven of the pale auburn haired Nord sitting in front of the roaring fire, clad only in a black tunic and his guild armor pants. She watches as his nose twitches slightly, trying to figure out who just walked in and drawing a blank. "Get out," he all but growls out. "I don't want to see anyone."

"You think _you_ can tell _me_ what to do, fledgling? It seems my first lesson in the cistern didn't sink in... Except _now_ I don't have to worry about crushing your neck with a slight squeeze." There are a few quiet moments, then Ana continues "On the other hand, you look like shit, Brynjolf. What would your plethora of whores across Skyrim say if they saw you like this?"

The ginger quickly rises from his seat and whirls around, dull rubies briefly meeting her dark emeralds. His eyes dart around wildly as if looking for a way out, or at least the furthest spot away from her. "You need to get out, Lass. I don't want to-"

"To what? To hurt me?" A cold laugh escapes the slighter blonde, rattling the male's sensitive ears. "Can't stop what you've _already done_ , you naive Nord! Do you even know, can you even remotely comprehend, what it was like for me day after day of you coming back to the Guild smelling of the women you bedded?"

Bryn growls out at her "Who I choose to spend my time outside the Guild is certainly none of your business, Guild Master or not, bitch."

"At least you got that part right, I _am_ a bitch, in more ways than one. But as to your first comment, my rather shortsighted Second, that is rather quite wrong. Maybe it was too much to hope that you'd have the intelligence of one of Harkon's line, and not one of the usual asinine grunts I spend my time killing." Keiana spends a few minutes staring at his face, a pensive expression on her own. "Then again, perhaps it's because you've _refused to eat_ that's affecting your brain. What excuse are you going to give me for that?"

"I'm a monster! I don't want to kill anyone due to lack of control!"

Before he could move an inch the woman was moving, the fingers of her left hand wrapping around his throat, slamming him up against the stone wall as green eyes flash in warning. "You _dare?_ By calling yourself a monster, you are calling _me_ a monster! You are calling the woman who brought me here to you a monster! Control can be taught! Not everything will be easy just because the almighty Brynjolf wants it to be so."

Through the fabric of his shirt, Brynjolf could feel the chill of the stone, but that was quickly forgotten as the heat emanating from the clearly enraged werewolf female enveloped him. _At least she can't kill you by asphyxiation, a slight plus this time around._ That fact, though, didn't stop the broader and taller Nord from feeling like he was being cut down by her commanding nature. _And that's why you're not the Guild Master and she is, Lad._ His gaze gets dragged from her narrowed eyes, down past flaring nostrils and down turned lips, over a scarred left cheek- after all this time, the man still didn't know the story of how that happened- and coming to a stop on the side of her neck where he could see a vein throbbing underneath pale skin. _Hungry. Want. Need._ "Lass...Keiana... What are you- you have to let go. I don't-" The pleading escaping his mouth gets cut off when her lips latch onto his, swallowing any form of protest.

The Alpha Guild Master could smell the fear coursing through the pinned male's body, but she didn't give two iotas about it. She was tired of being ignored, of being brushed off under the guise of him having 'important things to do', which her brain always translated into convincing some woman to share furs with for the night. If he could somehow find the time to bed half of Skyrim, then by Nocturnal, he could take five fucking minutes to finally satisfy her wants- the benefit now was that Ana didn't have to worry about breaking him in the case she got too rough. _Or risking turning him into one of Hircine's future dogs for his hunts_ , the blonde inwardly muses. _At least he wouldn't have to deal with all the research I'm doing to ensure my removing the wolf keeps me from the Hunting Grounds._

 _What if he doesn't really want us?_

 _ **I do not care. I want. You want. You wanted before I even came into the picture. Do not tell me you want to stop while the prize is within reach?**_

 _This could ruin everything, you know this. I'll be no better than Mercer if this goes wrong. The Guild..._

 _ **I will take responsibility for it. An irrational beast is easier to blame than a rational man.**_

 _And if that doesn't work?_

A pause then:

 _ **We'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it.**_

 _Wonderful. Oh well, in for a septim, in for a gold bar I suppose._ The slightly smaller Nord uses her lycan strength to keep the struggling and woefully weak fledgling pressed up against the bare rock, the digits of her free hand slipping under the coarse material of his shirt to brush against toned yet scarred skin. But for all her fellow Guildmate trying to resist her onslaught, not all of his body was in complete agreement as shown by the twitching of his forming arousal against her thigh, the spicy scent engulfing the woman from all sides. _Fight me all you want, Bryn. You might be verbally saying no, but your body says yes, betraying what you really want right now._ Leaving her mouth glued to his, Keiana slowly lessens the hold she has on his throat and brings her hand down to grab a hold of the neckline of his shirt, and, after bringing the other to the same spot, rips the material in half.

A blonde head pulls back as the hands slip the now ruined top off his shoulders, wanting to see what truly lay hidden now that he was up close. She had seen Brynjolf without a shirt or chestpiece before in the Cistern, but that had been long before Ana had become a Nightingale, long before she had taken on the role of Guild Master, even longer before she joined up with the Companions due to boredom.- and it was always clear across the room. Her heart wrenches when the man beneath her wouldn't meet her gaze.

"Ana...you can't..."

Her hands reach up and gingerly cup his chin, carefully turning the man's face to look at her. "Do you really want me to stop, Bryn? Just say the words and I'll walk out that door."

 _NO!_ Eyes the color of wine widen slightly at the statement, but nothing escapes the vampire's mouth.

Taking his silence as permission to continue, Keiana slowly runs her hands down over his bare chest, feeling the taut muscles ripple under calloused fingertips. Every scar that dotted his skin told a story- some which she knew, others the younger Nord could only imagine. "So gorgeous..." she whispers reverently, looking up at him through long lashes. The wolf trails the lithe fingers of one hand over the plane of Brynjolf's torso, bringing it to rest on a leather covered hip.

She buries her nose into the side of his neck, lightly sinking sharp ivories into the pale skin. Many were the nights that the Dragonborn wolf dreamed of him, of taking him, claiming him as hers and hers alone. For all the talk from the people she helped in the past of being an honorable Nord and the epitome of what it meant to be a Companion, Ana was first and foremost a thief, and a covetous one at that. She knew what she wanted and would do anything to make it hers, and right now her sights were on... _the man who's shaking fingers just slipped into her hair?_


	4. Chapter 4

Brynjolf realized the moment he realized it was Keiana that crossed his threshold that he could no longer hide behind the carefully constructed barriers he tried to place between himself and his Guild Master.

When he was recruited for the Thieves Guild as a younger lad by it's former Master, Gallus, the Imperial warned the former orphan of the dangers going from having nothing to having something. But just like most young people, the Nord spent his money almost as fast as he got it on drinks and women. Now it was mostly on the former and not the latter, since as he got older and his looks improved from gangly teen to sex-on-legs adult, women more often than not threw themselves at him with just a few honeyed words. _The joys of being me... and then she arrived, throwing a mammoth sized kink into everything._

The ginger had wanted the lithe blonde Nord to join the Guild the second he had laid eyes on her walking into Riften one chilly afternoon in late Frostfall. The Lass wasn't like the usual visitor to the cesspool of the province, having turned the tables on the scam he had set up at the front gate by seducing the damned guard instead of being scared into paying the fee and turning Maul into a stuttering mess. The way she moved seemingly unconcerned about what was going around her yet always aware, the way she coaxed responses from normally reticent residents of Riften like she actually _cared_ about their sob stories- Brynjolf knew he had to convince her to make her home in the Cistern, though he wouldn't mind if he could get her for a tumble too. At the time, of course, it was because passing up on the chance to add yet another conquest to his rather extensive list seemed unconscionable.

While he was able to convince Keiana to take on the mantle of a thief, never once could the older man get her in bed with him. He wasn't rusty- he flirted and she flirted right back, never telling him to cease the seemingly accidental and innocent caresses or embraces that lasted just a second too long to be considered friendly. But never once would she take that plunge into a bed with him and the Nord couldn't figure out why...

Then came Snow Veil Sanctum and everything changed. Brynjolf remembered Mercer offering his condolences at the loss of his protégée, of wanting to head straight to Eastmarch to at least bring her body home for a proper burial despite his Guild Master's command to stay put. Then things became a bit disconnected after that, so fast were events unfolding: a letter from Endon in Markarth saying that he had seen the Lass heading up to the Understone Keep looking worse for wear; another message from Niranye in Windhelm saying Keiana had stopped to sell some items to her and to spend the night in Hjerim, having left Winterhold early that morning; Mercer's betrayal, the Eyes of the Falmer and Irkngthand; Nocturnal, the Skeleton Key, Nightingales and the Twilight Sepulcher. _One Step Ahead._ Even through his own forced fight with Karliah, he couldn't keep his eyes off the other Nord as she battled the traitorous Breton, worrying for her life as he knew all too well how deadly Mercer could be with a blade. The disgraced Guild Master trying to get the last laugh as he died by flooding Irkngthand's Sanctuary and the eventual escape through the ceiling and into Bronze Water Cave.

In hindsight, he should have taken the key back himself as the Guild's Interim Guild Master, or forced Karliah to take responsibility for her lack of action over twenty years ago and faced Nocturnal. Instead, the Dark Elf feared facing the Prince after failing to protect the Skeleton Key despite her claiming before that Nocturnal wasn't truly displeased with her, and he... ran the other way claiming it was necessary to convince Maven Black-Briar that even with Frey dead business would still continue on as normal. Even with the Lass asking him to take the trip with her, the mulish male wouldn't budge... _Some Nord he was._

Keiana had left for Whiterun after returning Nocturnal's Key to the Sepulcher and her taking on the role of Guild Master, claiming to have some unfinished business in the hold now ruled by Vignar Gray-Mane. Whatever it was that she had to do in the center of Skyrim the Lass was completely closed mouthed about it, the events not only led to her bearing new scars, but it seemed everything about her changed; the way she walked, the way she talked- Ana seemed darker, more dangerous and by gods if he didn't want her even more now. The mere thought of her plagued him while awake, while asleep, even in the middle of jobs. Never before did the thought of anyone or anything consume him as she did, and it scared Brynjolf to the point that he tried to find any and all excuses to not be around the Guild when his fellow Nord was. He knew telling her his lie of having important things to do- translation: trying to forget her while burying his head in between the legs of another woman- and that they would talk later wouldn't last very long, but he had to try freeing himself from this web the Lass knowingly or not captured him in. He was warned, of course and many times, by those who knew him well that this was not the way to handle his relationship with Ana, that his lie would end up hurting him more than her in the end, that someone would sweep her off her feet and treat her as she should be and not as an item to covet from afar.

The firetouched man watched her face every time the falsehood flowed from his mouth, the way her nose would twitch slightly, the narrowing of judging emeralds flecked with gold, and, eventually after the lie had been told long enough, the sigh of resignation and the slumping of shoulders. As time went on, Keiana didn't even respond and began to withdraw, spending more time talking and training with Delvin _bloody_ Mallory of all people. He had watched the Breton take the female Nord under his wing, showing her the records he had kept regarding which thief would handle which jobs properly, of the always up-to-date list of who was barred from what hold and for how long- the last time someone lied and didn't let Mallory know they were forbidden from entering Eastmarch was left to let their heels cool in Windhelm's jail for the entirety of their six month sentence. And somehow the Sneak Trainer knew when he was looking, making sure his long time friend saw him whispering in her ear, brushing loose strands of flaxen hair behind her ear, or coaxing the same smile out of her that she used to give him.

So went the stalemate- him losing himself in the variety of women that called Skyrim home all the while watching his addiction slip further and further away. Eventually, something had to give- the tension was heavy and the emotions of the pair, though well hidden, were running rampant. And then it happened.

He knew the minute she questioned who he had spent his evening with that he should have told the truth up front, especially seeing the frail hold she had on her temper waning fast. But the lie spilled out of Brynjolf's mouth unbidden the two chances she gave him to come clean- two chances too many. The Nord though wasn't expecting Keiana to jump clear over her table and before him, nor was he expecting the unnaturally strong grip she put around his neck. The biggest shock was the sudden shift of eye color- emeralds with flecks of citrine were now an inhuman gold- but even with the change, he could easily see the swirling emotions hidden within, the anger, the hurt, the betrayal. The feelings held there, as well as the hint of tears at the edge of her eyes, that clenched at his heart the same way her hand held his throat- squeezing it tight.

Brynjolf was indebted to Delvin when he pulled their Guild Master out of the animalistic rage she nearly lost herself in, and actually listened to the advice his longtime friend gave him for once. He had went to the rebuilt Helgen where his next rendezvous with Lajla was; unfortunately for him, the thief learned too little too late just exactly why his werewolf Guild Master- he couldn't believe she had hidden that from him after everything they had been through together- felt so betrayed by his latest choice of bedwarmer.

The only thing that stood out in the disjointed memories was a bone chilling laugh escaping the woman as she leaned over his prone body, then her saying "So the bitch finally grew some teeth when it comes to you, hasn't she? Let's see if the shewolf will still want your sorry hide when I'm through with you!" Then came the pain, as if he was being burned from the inside out, screaming himself hoarse, begging for a death which never came.

How much time passed, the Nord didn't know, but when he finally opened his eyes for the first time, he was confused. Confused as to the fact that where he was looked nothing like the Twilight Sepulcher that Keiana described, confused as to why his hearing and sight had improved dramatically, and his memories in complete disorder. Then came answers to some of the questions, courtesy of Babette- he was currently in a fortified room in the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary and was the newest person to join the ranks of the undead. She had offered to take him hunting, offered to see if any of the assassins' blood called out to him; Brynjolf refused, of course- he didn't want to risk the peace between the two Guilds if he lost control.

Unwilling to deal with their distant cousin's stupidity anymore, the elder vampire sends for Delvin, hoping that he could get him to see some common sense. Brynjolf nearly threw the Breton through the door the first time, refusing any and all visitors from that point on. No matter who came to see him, who wanted the help, the man didn't care. He was a monster, and a monster didn't deserve pity...they deserved to die. How could he fulfill the oath he swore to Nocturnal in return for the ability to catch Mercer and deal with him once in for all... would the Patron of Thieves even be willing to accept him into the afterlife as he was?

Then today a new scent drifted into his room as the door opened and shut quietly. It was dark and dangerous, primal and seductive; the beast inside him demanded release, wanting to taste, bite, and claim the owner. The man wouldn't be beholden to what he desired, not now, not any longer. Unfortunately for the fledgling vampire, he picked a fight with the wrong person, getting up close and rather personal with his Guild Master, who was clearly pissed off still.

Brynjolf was fighting a war on seemingly three fronts as not only was he trying to resist Keiana, but his hormones- _dead people have hormones?-_ decided that they were going to wake up and demand attention, plus the beast still wanted her, to make her submit and submit in return.

 _Why would she want us? Why would her wolf want us?_

 _ **You expect me to understand what a werewolf wants? It has very basic instincts- food, shelter, protect the pack, find a mate.**_

 _Can't be any different than your desires, can it?_

 _ **Hmm... She wants. You want. Her wolf wants. I want. Where is the problem here?**_

 _This can go wrong, you know. She's still the Guild Master-_

 _ **Didn't stop Karliah and Gallus now, did it?**_

 _Twenty-five years on the run for being wrongfully accused of murder- I call that going wrong._

 _ **And you have all the time in the world to make sure you don't follow the same path.**_ _ **You learn from the mistakes of the past to not make them in the future…**_ _**Now you better do something or she's really going think you're not paying attention.**_

The male thief tries to focus again, this time just in time to feel a soft nibbling just above his jugular. _Shadows take you woman,_ Brynjolf mentally groans, then throwing caution to the wind, lifts a shaking hand and slowly runs his fingers through the soft strands of golden hair. He feels Ana pull back just enough to look at him, an unasked question swirling in yellowish-green eyes, to which his response is just pulling her in for another kiss.

* * *

A/N: I originally wasn't going to have this in the story, but I realized the original version Oblivion Hath No Fury was lacking a why. Sure, Brynjolf's a manwhore and despite that flaw, we all still love him (I blame the accent). But why did it take until Lajla for Ana to flip out? So I went forth and tried to find the _why_ \- here's hoping it's justice enough...

Also...it's a bit hard to write Bryn with submissive traits- not like in the BDSM aspect, but in the respect of Ana being more of an Alpha than he is (Blame Aela for that one) and his vampiric side knowing it. I'll have to throw the dice and see how they land with this...


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank Nocturnal,_ Keiana inwardly sighs with relief as she feels the older thief starting to respond to her advances, _I was almost beginning to worry there for a moment._ The digits that were resting on his hip start to move again, this time coming to brush over the front of his trousers, feeling him straining into her touch. "I want these off of you. Now."

As her own fingers deftly tugged at the buckles keeping the werewolf from her goal, Brynjolf's hands too were not idle, grabbing onto the sides of her tunic and pulling it free from being tucked into her pants. "Just evening things out, Lass," he tells her quietly, his voice betraying so much with five small words. He slowly lifts the soft material over her head, the light from the fire giving Ana's now bare upper body a slight glow to it.

The slighter thief looks up at the auburn haired male, her own hesitancy apparent on her face as the scars of her past were now before him. He knew his Guild Master had been more than her own fair share of fights- how could she not have with the tales told of dragons, bandits, necromancers and the Imperial Legion, the songs sung of her adventures in the taverns across Skyrim? But it was one scar that caught his eye, traveling along the lower part of her rib cage, just under her her right breast, disappearing under the waistband of her pants. _That should have killed her! Who dared!_ Brynjolf traces the uneven skin carefully, as if somehow worried it might hurt despite the fact it was well healed. "Who did this to you, Lass?"

"Why? Does it matter? Does it, as well as the others, make me hideous to your eyes?"

"Far from it. I think they make you look all the more dangerous," he goes, cupping her chin with his free hand and presses up slightly. When her infuriated eyes meet his concerned ones, the ginger continues "I asked because I want to know _who_ exactly I'm going to have to _kill_ for it."

While her face remained passive, Ana and her wolf were rather pleased at his response- the needing to protect and be protected for the symbiotic pair was rather strong and the fact that Brynjolf, at least when it came to her, was willing to provide was a very good sign. _**Perhaps his own beast is not as stupid as we thought.**_ "It would be rather hard to kill the person who did this, Bryn- I mean, unless you tracked down a necromancer that didn't kill you first and ask questions later. You were there when the person who did this died, remember? Don't see how you could forget that...unless being under their control did more to you than attacking Karliah."

"Mercer," he growls out. It wasn't a question, and both of them knew it. "When he dragged you to Snow Veil Sanctum." This time she nods and garnet eyes narrow ever so slightly. "The death you gave him was too good for that bastard. Why didn't you say anything, Lass? If I had known, I certainly wouldn't have sent you into Riftweald." What happened up in that ancient burial space was never fully discussed by neither Kariliah nor Keiana, and Brynjolf figured the pair would talk about it when they were willing, ready and able to. _It seems more happened there than they let on. I'll be sure to have words with Karliah the next time I see her about keeping things like this from me._

"It wouldn't have made a difference- Mercer was the Guild Master and he ordered me to go with him. Nothing would have changed that bastard's mind and you know it- just as stubborn as you are, but much more ugly. You were the one in charge with the Guild when you sent me off to Riftweald, so I listened. I won't complain though, because I walked away with some really nice things- like that dagger of mine you have a habit of eyeing every so often."

"That's the same one you used to kill him with." An unholy glint appears in what was originally expressionless red spheres as Brynjolf's rough hands grab onto the shifter's linen covered waist and switches their positions, him pressing her up against the stone wall with his hips. He stares down at Ana with a hungry gaze that had nothing to do with wanting her blood and everything to do with just wanting her. "Ana," he groans out as his head lowers down to bury itself into the side of her neck, the close proximity of her heart and pulse pounding loudly in his ears as he brushes cracked lips on the soft skin. "I want you. I need you. Gods, I can't take this anymore. If you don't stop me..." he whispers into her ear, fearing that yes, she would actually stop him.

Her deft fingers slip and twist through the dull firetouched locks, a groan escaping the younger thief as her head tilts to the side revealing more to torment him. "B-Bryn... _please..._ " Keiana manages to get out before her brain stops thinking, incoherent sounds leaving her now as she digs the nails of her free hand into his back.

 _Well, if that's what she really wants..._ _ **Who are we to deny anything to the one we want?**_ _ **Claim her. Mark her. Show the unworthy what they lost,**_ his inner beast tells him, and the man completely agrees. The vampire places a chaste kiss on the side of her neck, then slowly slides sharp teeth through the pliable skin.

Stars exploded in Ana's eyes, momentarily blinding her, and she wraps her free arm around his bare shoulders and neck for support as the werewolf lets out a soft moan. Everywhere their bodies touched, intentional or otherwise, set her nerve endings on fire and the woman came to the conclusion that nothing could ever feel _this_ good. It was as if she was an addict and Brynjolf was her drug. And, if he lost control and drained her dry, well...there were worse ways to go- like being executed by the Silver Hand. She could feel the older man slowly warm in her arms, the sustenance gained from her blood making the crimson strands of hair silky in her hands.

A satisfied hum escapes the ginger's throat as he cradles the smaller woman closer to him, his fingers tracing patterns onto her bare back. He had no idea what made her blood any different than every other brought before him in offering, but it was strong, earthy and wild, and more intoxicating than all the times he got drunk with Delvin in the Flagon. He knew though that he couldn't drain her dry, oh no, as she now belonged to him and nothing would ever take her away and those who dare tried would die. Brynjolf couldn't bite back a low groan as he feels Keiana grind her hips against his thigh, her leg brushing just so against his throbbing length, and what little hold he had on his quickly fading patience nearly vanishes. Having had his fill of dinner, he decides not to bother waiting for dessert and, wrapping Ana's legs around his waist, move the pair over to the up-until-now ignored bed, dragging his tongue over the over the bite until it was healed through a joint effort of her own healing capabilities as a shifter and his through saliva.

"Shadows take you- I'm not going to break," she breathes out as her Second gently lays her down on the fur blanket covering the straw tick mattress.

"I know." Gentle but deft fingers latch into straw strands, allowing the broader thief to lower himself on top of her. "I need you Ana, it's always been you. I don't understand it, Divines and Daedra know I've tried ignoring it- in the wrong way, I know- and gods I'm tired of running... But I want to do this properly, to show you I don't want this to be just about the sex or have it be a one time thing. We have all the time in the world," he promises the woman underneath him, though his voice betrays the lust he feels.

The Nord woman grabs onto the man's toned arms and pulls his naked body flush to hers. "Oblivion take your wanting to do things 'properly', Bryn. There will be plenty of time for you to be chivalrous and loving later. I've waited far too long for you, for this." Ana thrusts her hips sharply upwards into his, eliciting a feral growl from her fellow thief. Her jade eyes flash a golden color at the sound and she continues "If you won't give me what I want, what I _need_ right now, I'll take care of it myself... or better yet, find someone else willing to fill your shoes. I'm sure someone here in the Sanctuary will be happy to do so." _Let's dangle the bait and see what happens, shall we?_

With those last words, a snarl rips through the air, Bryn's hands moving in different directions. His right grasps at the blonde's throat, pressing her down onto the bed; his left grabs at the dark linen fabric of her pants and, with a sharp pull, rips the material free from her body. "Oh trust me Lass, when I'm through with you, you won't even consider looking at another man let alone think of fucking him." The auburn haired thief's fingers tighten their hold on the pale skin, relishing in the low moan she lets out. "Every time you need release, every time you need to take or be taken, regardless of whether it's quick and hard or slow and caring- you'll come to me, not because you have to, but because you _want_ to, because you know I'll give you everything you want and need, and then some, Lass." His free hand forces Keiana's legs apart, then he thrusts inside her without any preparation. The sound she makes seems to be one of pleasure and pain, though he thinks of nothing else except showing his worth to her.

The blonde whimpers, biting back the cry of pain that threatens to escape her as his lips claim hers once more, Brynjolf's mouth being rough, demanding and needy all at the same time. When she had participated in the blood ritual with Skjor and Aela in the Underforge, the Nord woman had no idea that her beast side would be so damned picky at who she'd let share her human's bed, even denying the twins that called Jorrvaskr home. It was even more inconvenient was when, even when the redhead kept denying her, the wolf still wouldn't choose another. _**Waiting was worth it, now wasn't it?**_ The she-wolf snakes a long leg across his hip and waist, eagerly meeting each of his downward thrusts with her own raising hips, causing him to sink even deeper into the prize. Ana's own sounds of pleasure were echoed by her Second, his hand releasing its' grip on her throat as it starts the slow move downwards, touching at every part of his woman that he could reach while still driving into her.

Inwardly, while the somewhat questionably honorable Companion's wolf side was rather content at the show of dominance, she wasn't going to just lay there and be a bottom for the man above her, and demanded that her human counterpart make him realize it. Before the vampire could stop her, the Nord werewolf manages to flip the pair over without coming apart, she now straddling him. Gold colored eyes with small flecks of red widen at the sudden change in her demeanor, and he opens his mouth to protest. Whatever Bryn was going to say gets cut off and forgotten when she stares down at him while doing a slow grinding rotation of her hips against his own. He groans, forcibly grabbing onto sun kissed thighs and holding Ana in place as the male thief bucks upward, not wanting to lose the feeling of her wrapped around him.

Ana leans forward as he continues to roughly manhandle her more than willing body, burying her nose into the side of her fellow Nord's neck. _**There. Right there,**_ the wolf tells its human as she feels the scarring of where the female vampire bit Brynjolf. _**That undead bitch doesn't deserve to leave any marks on what's yours. Get rid of that travesty on him and show everyone just who he belongs to.**_ She brushes her teeth against the marred skin, giving the man underneath her the chance to stop her- it would hurt, no doubt, but she'd rather have a willing mate than one that despised her long after they died.

Her hesitation, though, was unfounded when she feels a slight pressure on the back of her head. "Ana... _please..._ " he breathes out erratically, his husky voice coming out somewhere in between a beg and a prayer as the older Nord echoes the same words Keiana did earlier. Brynjolf jerks at the long strands of hair, conveying the urgency of just exactly what he wants from her.

The only thing he hears from the woman pressing down against him is "Your wish is my command, Lad,", then comes the feeling of her own sharp teeth slowly sinking into his flesh. There was pain, albeit brief, but there are times when the fine line between pain and pleasure tends to blur, or as in this case, disappeared completely. It takes what little restraint the redhead has left to not come undone right then and there.

The sensations the auburn haired thief feels under Ana's ministrations pale in comparison to many of his experiences with women in the past- this was gentle yet passionate, intimate in it's own way and very much real, unlike those who offered themselves up to be used for a price, and the complete opposite of how his maker ravaged him, changing the thief to spite the woman above him. When Brynjolf realizes that the shifter female released her hold on his neck, he murmurs into Ana's ear as her hips start to move once more "I don't know why I ran from you for so long Lass."

"Same reason I had in the beginning, same reason I turned to Delvin to mentor me in my new position even though she balked at the mere idea of me relying on another man," Keiana goes as she leans back somewhat, giving Bryn the best view he had all night of the woman in all her glory- from the tousled waves of gold, to the patchwork arrangement of scars decorating a taut stomach, to his shaft tightly enveloped by her soft walls. "We were scared of what something like this would bring- two habitually solitary people thrown together as mates by Gods or Daedra for their amusement- seriously, who could have come up with tying together a werewolf and a vampire for the rest of their unnatural lives?"

"I'm still scared- and you tell anyone that Lass I'll deny it wholeheartedly. But the thought of you with anyone else scares me even more to the point of madness." When she goes to start moving at a drawn-out pace, most likely to torment him some more, the ginger Nord decides that he is done playing her games and clutches Ana's hips in a vice-like grip. "None of that Lass," he growls out as he reverses the pair, then after removing himself from her warmth, flips the shifter onto her hands and knees.

As he presses back into her, Brynjolf can feel her body trembling underneath him and he grabs onto her hips once more to prevent the younger woman from taking back control. A low growl escapes Keiana as he fully sheathes his cock into her warmth, causing the vampire to chuckle into her neck. "I take it your wolf approves," he goes as one hand slips around her waist and in between long legs, a calloused digit brushing against her clit.

Nearly black eyes narrow as the younger woman glares over her shoulder at him. "She'd like it more if you just gave us what we wanted you fuckin' tease." Keiana would have said more if it wasn't for the hand on her hip latching onto the disheveled long strands of blonde hair and tugs hard, pulling her flush against Brynjolf's muscular torso.

"You mean like this, Lass?" He asks her as his hips snap up against hers. His only response was loud moan with Ana pressing back against him, wriggling wantonly in his hold as her nails scratch his shoulder and thigh, leaving deep gouges in their wake. A second but fainter chuckle escapes him, then Bryn goes "I'll take that as a yes then." The weak hold he had on his restraint shatters into nothingness and the ginger starts pounding into her relentlessly, claiming his mate exactly as she wanted. _Who are we to deny her anything indeed._ "Mine."

 _ **You're learning.**_

Her head was laying against his shoulder as his arms supported her trembling body, the gasps and moans escaping her mouth interspersed with gasps for needed air. Dry lips press against her temple as Brynjolf smirks, knowing from this point out no one would be able to drag these sounds, these responses from her. "Mine," he goes again as he finally coaxes forward her release, a loud cry that, knowing their luck, could be heard out by the waterfalls in the Brotherhood's Guild Hall- a fact, he inwardly muses, that didn't bother him as much as he thought. _Let them all know, especially Delvin, that you're mine._ He was so caught up in the moment, watching Ana's body arch he kept driving into her through her climax, the way his name escaped her lips, that the older thief didn't realize his own was upon him until he felt his balls clenching in warning. Bryn pulls his mate as close and as far down as possible, burying his cock as deep into her as he releases inside her and growls out once more "Mine."

Only the sound of panting could be heard in the now eerily quiet room as Keiana and Brynjolf come down from their lust induced high- her running her tongue across his blood stained skin after turning around, him rubbing her tender muscles from his earlier rough handling. Finally, the two meet each other's gaze as he blindly pulls a fur over their bare forms, then gingerly brings her against his chest.

"Are you alright?" the man comments quietly, the rumbling in his chest oddly comforting to the werewolf above him. At the younger woman's questioning glance, Byrnjolf elaborates "I might have gotten a little rough there at the end."

Her head shakes in the negative. "The wolf wanted it that way, the wolf got it that way, though my body will be screaming at me later. Anything less would have made you seen less than worthy in her eyes- and before you ask, I don't know if she really would have had me look elsewhere for...satisfaction. As you said, we have all the time in the world, and had we been anyone or anything else, perhaps things could have went the way you originally planned." Ana pauses as she leans back a bit, looking up at his face in confusion. "You seem...uncertain."

A barely audible sigh, then "No. Well, it's...different. Not what I was expecting." Red brows furrow in thought for a few moments. "I spent my adulthood charming the pants off of various women across Skyrim- quite literally. Now I find myself bound to you for the rest of eternity and though I'm not unhappy at the fact... it's just feelings I'm not used to."

"You regret it." A statement, not a question. "I did give you an out, Bryn. That ship's long since sailed." Ana goes to pry herself from his hold and get up from the bed, but he wasn't having any of it.

"No. Gods no, Ana," he protests as he drew random patterns over her skin, afraid that she'll disappear. "Just...how does a relationship between a vampire and a werewolf work?"

Strong arms wrap around said werewolf's torso, carefully moving her until the two were on their side, front to front. "I... I don't know," the woman responds with a slight shrug of her shoulders. Thin fingers absently trace a scar across Brynjolf's chest that seemed to have been made by a dagger of sorts. "But some power out there seems to think we can figure it out, that we can somehow make it work. It won't always be sunshine and rainbows. There will be good days, bad days, and some damn ugly ones." She leans her head against his shoulder and adds quietly, "We'll get through it and find a way. We always do."

She gets no verbal response, just lips placing a soft kiss against her forehead. The strange pair wrap their arms and legs around the other, taking solace in the embrace as they dozed, the outside world being forgotten for the time being.

* * *

Meanwhile, down in the Brotherhood's eating area, warm topazes look up from the tome being read. "Finally," Delvin goes, glancing at Babette over the pages. "Now maybe things will get back to normal."

"As normal as they can be for people like us."

* * *

A/N: Well, this certainly took me a damned long time to get this where I wanted it... Four months too long. And I'm sorry! But I didn't forget!

It was a bit awkward, trying to find the happy medium for Ana and Bryn. I certainly hope I did it justice. But it will certainly be interesting to see just how these two make things work, especially since by nature they really shouldn't get along- I consider Arnbjorn and Babette to be anomalies to this, considering they manage to be in the same Guild without any problem.

So I'll try to have the next chapter up sooner rather than later- I have a vague idea of what's coming so that helps. Bryn meets some of Ana's extended family and tries to tell Ana what to do, leading to the possibility of some sass and withholding of either her blood or sex. Not sure yet. Maybe both.

Constructive criticism is always welcome, but summer is coming and flames will be used for barbecues and s'more making.

Thanks for reading!


End file.
